“Can we take this somewhere a little more private?” asks Austin. I sigh. I said only 10 minutes and this guy wants to take I somewhere more private? He doesn’t seem to be listening to anything I say. But despite this, I agree to follow him to an enclosed area behind one of the food trucks. I stand there with my arms crossed. I most certainly am not giving him more than 10 minutes of my time. I have already wasted way too much time on this loser. He’s not good enough for me and he needs to know that. One doesn’t get away with treating me like trash. Too many people in my life have done so.
“Jasmine, don’t be mad,” he begins but I cut him off. “Don’t be mad?! How can I possibly not be mad at you! You came to my house, kissed me, f****d me and then left without a goodbye. Am I some sort of s
